Ye Fan’s divine sense was immeasurably powerful — even the endless runes inscribed throughout the halls built by Primordial Emperors could not obstruct him, and in an instant he perceived who was inside.
“After so many years apart, how have you two been?”
“Brother Ye, is it truly you?” The doors of that ancient hall were pushed open, and a man stepped out — his bearing was magnificent and upright, his physique vigorous and supple as a dragon, bronzed in color, his long hair flowing loose and thick, though threaded through with several strands of white.
“Demon God?” Long Ma was startled. He had seen this man once before, back on the Ancient Road through the Starry Sky.
“Nan Yao.” The Black Emperor let out a sigh. He had been one of the great prodigies of the Big Dipper all those years ago, and after so many years apart, seeing him again now stirred a profound feeling — the weight of time itself.
Back then, Nan Yao had been in the fullness of his youth, brimming with vitality. Though his blood and vital energy remained vigorous even now, and he had become a peerless powerhouse, he was already over six thousand years old.
Ye Fan, too, felt the weight of it in his heart. Their final parting on the Ancient Road through the Starry Sky — and here they were, reunited at last, thousands of years having passed in the blink of an eye. If they had been ordinary people, they would long since have turned to dust.
Nan Yao was extraordinarily powerful, counted among the supreme combatants of this age, and one who had attained the Dao by unconventional means.
Behind him stood another figure — a woman, her silhouette graceful and willowy, beautiful in form, yet her once-jet-black hair had turned entirely white. Though she maintained her youthful appearance through cultivation, it was clear that the years had left their mark upon her.
It was the woman once known as Qi the Calamity, the Lady Qi Qi of the Southern Ranges of the Qi Clan.
Meeting again like this left them all silent for a long while.
Youth slips away so easily. Beauty fades all too swiftly.
When a peerless beauty cannot withstand the passage of time, growing old beneath wind and frost — for women like her, this was the cruelest thing of all. To watch youth recede and silver take root — who could truly understand that state of heart?
“Ye Fan.” Qi the Calamity exhaled softly, as if she wished to say something, yet found herself unable to open her mouth.
She had never been as powerful as Nan Yao. Over those six thousand-odd years, the traces of time were more evident upon her, her blood and vital energy no longer as vigorous as before.
The siblings Nan Yao came forward to meet them.
Ye Fan conjured a fallen meteor, carved it into a table and stone stools, brought out fine wine, and there among the stars sat down with these two old friends to reminisce over drinks.
“You have become a Great Emperor?” Nan Yao said, astonished — then understanding settled over his face.
They had been confined here for so many years, and so much had happened in the outside world. They had been completely cut off from it, unaware that Ye Fan had already become the Heavenly Emperor. But Nan Yao was no ordinary man, and he did not let his composure slip.
“After so many years apart, being able to see you both — that feeling is a fine one.” Ye Fan said.
As the number of familiar faces in his life dwindled one by one, each eventually defeated by time, he treasured every old friend dearly, unwilling to see misfortune befall them.
“This is the Soul Pool left behind by the Immortal Heavenly Emperor.”
“I already know,” Ye Fan said with a nod.
Nan Yao recounted what had happened: years ago, they had discovered the ancient hall drifting through the void of the universe. Upon entering, they were stunned to find it had once been the place where the Immortal Heavenly Emperor had entered seclusion to comprehend the Dao. The siblings had cultivated here — yet unexpectedly, as their cultivation deepened, it activated the ancient hall, and the Soul Pool shattered through the void and arrived here. At the same time, the Devil Mist appeared, surrounding and trapping them in this place.
Fortunately, the ancient hall had special properties that kept the corrosive energy at bay.
As Nan Yao’s cultivation grew deeper over the years, he had recently felt confident enough to leave — but having sensed the wonders of the Soul Pool, he was reluctant to depart so easily.
Ye Fan sighed softly. The corrosive energy here was extraordinarily potent, capable of harming even a Supreme Being. That Nan Yao had cultivated to this level was truly remarkable — he had genuinely attained the Dao by unconventional means.
Just as the Black Emperor had surmised, the Soul Pool was a remnant of the Immortal Heavenly Emperor’s soul, left behind after his transformation.
Ye Fan stood before the pool for a long while, then walked a circuit through the ancient hall, deeply sensing the terrifying nature of the Immortal Heavenly Emperor — an adversary beyond imagination.
They lingered together for a long time. Qi the Calamity remained largely silent — once the most peerless beauty of her generation, watching her youth recede left her melancholy, and seeing old friends again rendered her speechless. Only as the time came to part did she breathe softly: “You haven’t changed much at all.”
Ye Fan watched them depart. Just as they were about to vanish into the river of stars, Nan Yao turned back and said: “Brother Ye, this may be the last time we meet. Take care of yourself!”
Ye Fan said nothing, only exhaled a slow breath. Barring the unexpected, Nan Yao had chosen to seal himself away, not to reappear until a hundred or a thousand ages hence.
“Farewell!”
On the journey back, Ye Fan was very quiet. A long while passed before the Black Emperor finally spoke: “Let’s keep wandering. There’s nothing pressing anyway.”
Ye Fan nodded. The path to immortality was not something one could comprehend simply by entering closed seclusion. So many brilliant figures throughout history had been stymied by this very question — he naturally did not believe that burying himself in contemplation alone would be enough to break through to the heavens.
And so they walked — for more than half a year. They passed through many star systems, drawing great waves of commotion wherever they went. The Heavenly Emperor on a grand tour inspired reverence in all the races of the universe, and no small number of great clans came out to receive him and invite him in — though all were politely declined.
Along this journey, they witnessed much, and their hearts were full of feeling. This magnificent great age had reached its twilight — it was truly drawing to a close.
Zhang Bairen, Taichu, and others had long since vanished from sight. It was said they had sealed themselves away, choosing to preserve their hopes and the ambitions of this lifetime for the future, in hopes of returning to overturn the heavens someday.
Then they witnessed figures of legendary bloodlines who had begun to walk toward the decline of their later years, and even more who had begun to age visibly, showing signs of exhaustion.
“Our youth — is it truly going to end within this great age?”
“Ha ha ha — the most dazzling lifetime, the most glorious era, and what have I seen? Nothing more than this. Nothing has been left behind. We have simply passed through, each of us a traveler, and nothing more!”
Some laughed openly while tears streamed down their faces.
The autumn wind rose, and yellow leaves fell. This great age was truly drawing to a close.
The stars had blazed brilliantly — so many with the bearing of emperors had contended for supremacy, yet in the end only one Heavenly Emperor stood atop the nine heavens, looking down upon all the great lights of that age.
The stars dimmed. The heroes faded into obscurity.
Since the age of mythology, there had been a prophecy: that the true path to immortality would open in this very age, a radiant road leading to the other shore — to a world where one need never grow old or die.
And yet — this too had come to nothing, leaving people with too many regrets. The immortal realm remained so impossibly distant.
Supreme Beings wept in blood. The great ones mourned in grief. All of this was drawing to a close in the mythological age of the present era, as countless powerhouses died splattered across the starry sky in the great struggles of this age.
Too many luminaries had been buried in the river of stars. Six thousand years of warfare, six thousand years of glory — perhaps it would continue, stretching to ten thousand years in total — but the curtain would fall eventually. No one could stop it.
“I wrote a resounding battle hymn in blood. I let my life blaze with brilliance. And now I listen to one last sorrowful song of the great age — is this truly how it ends?”
Many people raised their faces and asked the heavens.
The great ones of that earlier day, each once so brimming with vigor, now all had silver hair taking root. Many had died, and those who remained had all been touched by the frost of time.
“And so… it ends like this? I am not resigned. How can a golden great age end this way!”
A long lament in place of weeping. Heroes’ tears flowed.
How could one forget? How could one let it go? A great age was ending just like this — the luminaries who had been in the fullness of their youth were all gradually aging, about to take their final bow.
To have lived through a great age, to have witnessed one generation of splendor — blooming like fireworks, and now fading away in the same manner.
Ye Fan walked on. His words grew fewer and fewer. The more he witnessed, the more silent he became. Was it truly time to see this age off?
“Look — the Heavenly Emperor is seeing us off. Ha ha ha ha…” someone laughed loudly, tears long since flowing in rivers.
“Yes — the Heavenly Emperor walks with us at the end. He once contended alongside us in the same generation. Hey, ha ha ha… farewell, this great age!” A mournful laugh rang through the emptiness. Someone staggered and walked into the distance.
……
Ye Fan and his companions walked on, coming at last to an ancient land where battles had once been fought — a star domain shattered during the dark and turbulent years, lying in ruins to this day.
At that time, Ye Fan had not yet become an Emperor. He had gone to war purely on a surge of hot blood, with the resolve to die if necessary, throwing himself into the battlefield like a moth flying into a flame.
Looking back now — a road stained with blood all the way through.
The ruins here stretched endlessly. Countless shattered star remnants, all manner of beings’ blood staining the ancient land red — and still it had not dried.
Shattered dreams upon star-soil. Those who had once been here would never return.
“Ji Zi — how I wish you could still be alive. You and I and the Holy Prince could have shared a cup together.” Ye Fan murmured under his breath.
He thought of many things — of the white-robed Divine King, who had been to him like a father and a teacher, and of the unrivaled ailing elder, Gai Jiuyou, who had given so much.
“How could anyone forget — during the dark turmoil, the Solar Holy Emperor, with only a skin of a man left, still returned against all odds to fight one last battle, until every last drop of blood had flowed from him.” Long Ma also sighed softly.
In those days, within the Purple Micro Star Domain, the hide of the Human Emperor had appeared once more. Even in death he had stood to protect the living beings of an ancient star, and only when the last drop of blood fell from his eyes did he finally collapse.
“And there was the Void Great Emperor — his whole life spent quelling turmoil, until he fell in battle. Even in this age, he poured out his last drop of blood, with only a half-broken mirror for company at the end.”
Speaking of the past, they fell into a collective quiet of grief and lamentation.
Even Ye Fan was overcome with great sorrow, unable to suppress it.
Suddenly, the Black Emperor stopped in his tracks. Long Ma turned his head. Only Ye Fan did not pause — he continued forward across this blood-soaked battlefield, toward a lone figure in the distance.
“It’s you.” Ye Fan recognized her. It was Xia Jiuyou, the sole disciple of the ailing elder Gai Jiuyou.
Once upon a time, she had been a prodigious girl — at thirteen or fourteen years old she had already been able to match the Golden-Winged Xiaopeng King, Yao Guang, Ye Fan, and others as equals, astonishing all of the Eastern Desolate.
In those days, she had been willful and imperious, and had ended up losing to Ye Fan and receiving a thorough lesson at his hands.
Years had passed, and this prodigious girl had changed completely. She had long since grown up. She was dressed in white as pure as snow, her face written through with grief.
Xia Jiuyou was beautiful and moving. She had reached the quasi-emperor realm thousands of years ago — her strength was extraordinary — yet there were still one or two strands of white among her dark hair.
“You… why are you here?” Seeing her, Ye Fan could not help but think of Gai Wudi, and a great pain rose in his heart. He still remembered the sight of the ailing elder years ago — straightening his back, ten thousand feet of radiance pouring from him, roaring out “Who dares to fight me?!” — that scene of heartbreaking magnificence.
“I’m looking for my master…” Xia Jiuyou said, tears on her cheeks, an expression of profound desolation on her face.
All these years, she had been searching through the universe — unwilling to believe that her master had died. He was the only family she had left, and she wanted to find him.
A bitter ache rose in Ye Fan’s heart, his nose stinging. Even as the Heavenly Emperor, he could not conceal that feeling. After the dark turmoil ended three hundred years later, when he had awakened, he had once searched frantically — but found nothing in the end.
He had not expected that there was still someone more tenacious than he — someone who had been searching for more than five thousand years and was still looking.
“The old man would not want you to be like this…” Ye Fan said, his heart heavy as he gently urged her.
“My master is with me. He will come back — I have found a part of him.” Xia Jiuyou said, her grief laced with a haunted sorrow.
“You…”
“But I have only found one drop of my master’s blood.” Xia Jiuyou’s eyes were full of tears. She carefully lifted a divine crystal, within which a single vivid drop of blood was sealed.
“Is it truly left behind by Elder Gai?!” Ye Fan was shaken to his core with grief.
He looked at it for a long time, then walked deeper into the shattered battlefield, unable to stop himself from throwing his head back and crying out to the sky, his heart full of helplessness and refusal to accept what could not be changed.
Not only Gai Jiuyou — but so many others, one by one they rose in Ye Fan’s heart, too many people and events that had simply passed away like that.
Past events, one age after another, one scene after another — as vivid as if they were right before his eyes.
Ye Fan unleashed his Emperor’s Fist, striking up at the nine heavens in the midst of that ruined battlefield, sending rumbling thunder rolling outward, while a song of sorrow stirred across the river of stars.
After the ancient wilderness, heaven and earth stirred. The beacon fires of the Big Dipper blazed thick. Time was severed, the ancient clans thrown into chaos among men. Sword energy soaring to the heavens, mountains and rivers stained in blood. Zithers and drums rang out, iron spears clashed, cold light flickering across the starry sky. Iron bones unyielding — who in all the world is a true hero?
Immortal clouds rose, Supreme Beings appeared, the road to immortality — ten thousand ages of war. War, war, war! The starry sky collapsed, and all living beings trembled in anguish. White hair drenched in blood, countless bodies piled high, the lament of a young girl sinking in a pool of blood, the turmoil and strife of the mortal world. Blood splattered across the heavens, swords piercing the sky — chaos through ten thousand ages, lamentation at the world’s end. Mountains and rivers like blood — who can come to save them? All beings cry out, the Human Emperor fights back against fate, blood and tears run dry, darkness through all eternity.
The void cannot be seen, flowers bloom and fade, a single mournful song — not enough to bury ten thousand ages of heroes, with only a half-broken mirror for company. Time like a blade cuts down the luminaries, on the road to immortality one sighs at the brilliance now gone, blood and bone make the opening verses, a scroll painted in one age of sorrow.
How many heroes were buried far from home, how many brilliances can never again be seen. Nine Dragons Pulling the Coffin — stirring up one age of turmoil; white hair howling a wild song, the heavenly road leads to no end.
Emperor’s blood scorches the starry sky, the immortal road speaks of eternity. A beauty sighs, a hero grows old, ten thousand years in the mortal world — the immortal road is nowhere to be seen.
Battle on!